The Evil Coach

Sunday I had an idea that didn’t fully form. Yesterday I had the same thought in earnest so it did. I expected to even act on it, but I didn’t. What if I wrote some in the morning then picked the thread back up in the evening? Nearly 600 posts in and I’m a genius suddenly.

At least one other thing occurred to me regarding my Fake Christian Jock character. His story spreads out over many years of his life in order to see not only the desperate and touching—of course—conversion, but also the original fall from grace. There needs to be a scene where he does something publicly egregious then employs his false Christianity to beg forgiveness and gets it. The same sort of thing bookended in the scene I noted yesterday where he is outed.

He’s got to be convinced of his ability to dupe anyone so that when the coach who gets it comes as such a shock. Was he clumsy about hiding his lie? Was he just that easy to read?

I intuit this coach will be the turning point for FCJ, but I don’t see how to make that concrete yet. Perhaps exploring this Evil Coach’s agenda will help me out…

First, he doesn’t have an agenda and he’s not evil. He’s just trying to get by in the collegiate world like the rest of them. He’s hoping to get a head coaching position at the university level or maybe a side bump into the NFL as a trainer then up through the ranks. He’s young but older than FCJ; he has a small family. Even his recognition of what FCJ is up to isn’t evil. Maybe he even sees it as a nice bit of strategy. Like branding and name recognition.

The Evil Coach character will have difficultly spanning the life of the FCJ though. That specific protagonist appearing in the right places in all three acts will be difficult to pull off. Which leaves me wondering if EC should catalyze FCJ’s recognition of the problem instead. Huh? I don’t like the possibility of employing a symbolic force like ‘almost getting caught’ to crop up from time to time to plague my FCJ. Seems like a cop out.

373 words on day 578

Thinking About Running Back

An artist draws when she puts pen to paper. Any line—the first one, the next one, any one—becomes a part of the scene. That line may have begun as calestenics for the wrist and fingers or it may have been deliberate, but the artist incorporates it in the end. Even when they don’t include the first line, they sketch around it reducing it’s impact and rendering inconsequential. Each stroke and overstroke, each tick and bend, each smudge and erasure contributes.

A writer must edit their lines. They must excise false starts. They must hide away their practice. Even from themselves.

And then they must talk out of their asses.

Over the weekend I heard a bit of a pre-game radio show. The hosts interviewed a college football player who’d injured his ankle and stayed out of a couple of game. The young man attributed his return to hard work, prayer, and the influence of God on his doctors. He said that God spoke to the people involved in his recovery. God told them how best to care for him in order to get him back on the field. The player considered what a life without football might mean to him, but not seriously because he had faith God would restore his ankle. Today he would play!

I guess I’m cynical.

I think we’ve all heard this story in one form or another. This version avoided the he’ll-never-walk-again cliché, in fact, it’s brief freshness derived from it’s understatement, but I had no doubt of the outcome and not much real interest along the way.

I guess I’m cynical.

I’m glad his story is common enough that he’ll never recognize what I’ve made of it. Or, maybe I’m glad his story is common enough that the story I have made of it will resonate with many players and fans. (Please note, I’ve not made a story. I’ve only so far had an idea I’ve not fleshed out). I wrote the logline in the shower or the rest of the drive home.

A skilled and savvy Oklahoma football player pretends to be a Christian to garner favor with fans and friends until he meets a coach who sees right through him…and doesn’t care.

A nice challenge I’ve thrown myself here since I barely know anything about either. Or at least I know what anyone might know from being on the outside of both. I know plenty well what being Christian is, but I don’t have the appropriate appreciation for it I’d need to write this story well. I don’t know what it means to proselytize or to blame all my successes on God. I don’t see how this story could be good without a better understanding of football than I hold right now. For me football is still a little like playing the slots; hiking the ball is like jacking the lever.

I like the several juxtapositions. I think he’d have to know more about Christianity to fake it than he would to be it. He’d need a reason to fall out with religion which would look like the reason he fell in. He’d have to have a stage to play on but look humble going about it. He have to feel contempt for the marks (fans, friends, fellow—but not fake—Christians) yet come off as genuine. Then he’d need a compelling reason to turn it all around personally. The story fails if he doesn’t face his sham publicly. Get denounced and never regain his credibility. Or only regain it through hard fought battle.

599 words on day 577